


And Drift They May.... (Dream Series, Part 9)

by xof1013



Series: Dream Series [9]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Drama, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-28
Updated: 2010-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-11 07:04:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xof1013/pseuds/xof1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Morning After the night before…. Aftermath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Drift They May.... (Dream Series, Part 9)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, you wanted to know what happened after the threesome!!! Lol… Set just after Season Two ends – so it's speculation on my part as to how this could happen. If it greatly differs from Season Three Canon, even as a missing scene – then I withhold the right to call this story an AU from the rest of the Dream series as a whole. I recommend new readers read the other eight stories in this series, "Only. Everything." - "Drifting" - "On Dreams of You" - "Mind's Eye" - "Home" - "Sense and Sensation" – "The Longest Dream" – "Dream Weaver." Hugs to Alexis for the beta.
> 
> Special Note: ' ..' signify character thought.
> 
> Warnings: Spoilers for US QAF - through Season 2.

And Drift They May....

(Dream Series, Part 9)

by xof

 

(Feb. 18, 2003)

 

Warmth, his whole body was encased in soft caressing warmth. Lying buried under the covers on his bed. It felt good, like a sensation one would cling to with selfish determination. Wanting to hold it with the force of one's will, and the thought that it would never end – should never end. Until you had no choice, its release imminent with the coming of day. Comfort and serenity drifting on the verge of wakefulness.

Muffled voices resonated, sounding through his sleep tattered brain; the first significant sleep he'd had in days slipping away without his consent. With a softly mumbled, "Fuck," Brian slid the duvet down just enough to peer out towards those who had interrupted his not-oft-held sense of peace.

And the sight…. The sight brought back his memories of the night before with a kaleidoscope-jumbled rush of images. A circle of three, positions intermixed and limbs entangled as they moved together. And strongest, the man that won the race and held his mind's focus with his memory's return – was Michael. Michael above him, being pressed down over and into him by Ben. Michael below him, arching up as he cried out beneath Brian's body . . . arms anchored by Ben as they moved together.

Brian sucked in a deep breath, gasping as it caught in the back of his throat – held captive by his own body as it was assaulted by the scent of all of them clinging to the sheets. Musk and cologne mixed into a fragrance that was all male, and that tickled his nose in a tease as his body hardened with the sense memory. Eroticism in reflection.

Fisting the sheets, Brian fought not to move. He didn't want to call attention to himself as he listened. As he watched….

Michael standing bare, his back to the bed as he whispered to Ben. His tone worried and hushed as he hugged his arms around his own waist. Ben half-dressed in pants and shoes, shirt in hand as he clasped Michael's shoulders and pulled him close.

"Shhh, babe. I'm fine. We're fine, Michael." His voice carried to the bed, Brian once more witness to Ben's Zen reasoning. It made him a bigger man than most, all things considered, Brian thought.

"But then why are you leaving? Sneaking out without waking me. I…. Ben?"

Hugging the smaller man, Ben closed his eyes and kissed Michael softly. He cradled his lover's face as he pulled back. "Michael, I don't want you to feel scared or worried like you did last night. You shouldn't ever have to feel that way because you love me, because you love him. I'm grateful for each day with you, and for what you've put on hold to be with me. Last night, it was about all of us. He needed you, and you needed him. And I needed you to know that I love you, Michael. That I understand…."

"Ben, please. You're not…. We're still," Michael said hoarsely – his voice more naked with emotion than his body without its clothes.

Ben smiled. "Yes, we're still…" He scrubbed a hand through Michael's tangled spiky hair and then pulled on his own shirt. "I'm going to go to the gym, run some laps. Meditate. Then I'm going to the store to stock up for the meal I'm making you tonight. My place, at 8 o'clock. It's a date?"

Michael scrunched his face up as though thinking about it, then laughed and agreed. "It's a date." He reached up and kissed Ben once more, letting their mouths play for a touch before stepping back.

Biting his moist lip, Ben cocked his head in Brian's direction. "Now go back to bed for awhile. You're starting to get cold, one big goosebump." At Michael's sideways glance, Ben nodded. "You two need some time. We'll talk tonight." The implication of permission granted weighing the intent of his words, Ben turned to leave.

"I love you." Michael said, his voice measured in equal parts of awe, confusion and affection.

One look over his shoulder, a smile to brighten their moods and Ben answered back. "We both love you too." And then he was gone….

Brian stayed still, watching Michael as he stood quietly. His friend was looking down, lost in thought as though weighing his wants against his needs.

Closing his eyes, Brian waited to hear Michael's decision. Would it be the rustle of clothing and the sliding close of the loft door? Or….

The bed shifted with the return of Michael's weight, his feet having made no sound during his return. Brian shivered as cool morning air stole under the duvet, before it came to a rest around both their bodies. Continuing to play at sleep, Brian lost his own game when he gasped as Michael hugged him close from behind – the touch of cold skin against his bed-warmed flesh the cause. "Shit, Mikey. Good morning to you too."

Michael chuckled softly, the sound lost in the tangled brown of Brian's messed up hair. He buried his face at the base of Brian's neck, remaining quiet as the moments passed.

Brian listened to the rhythm of their breathing, felt the pulse of Michael's heart against his back. It made him glad. Glad to have Michael there, and in his life. He knew it was a comfort he'd not earned, but had been gifted with. Especially in that moment. Gifted by Michael's love and loyalty. Gifted by Ben's strength and grace.

Twining his fingers through Michael's, Brian voiced what they both knew. "He's a good man, Michael." It was as close to a testament of thankfulness as Brian was likely to come. And to an acceptance that Ben would do for his Mikey.

If only in the now….

Michael nodded, his deep breath sighing over Brian's skin in a heated wave. Rubbing his forehead against Brian's neck, he hugged Brian close. His heart too full to voice his mind; until with a whisper he spoke to the man in his arms. "Sandy…."

Brian clenched his jaw, taking in the sound – the resonance of that one word acting as a hair trigger to both his cock and his heart. Only Michael. The man behind him was one of only a very few that held emotional power over Brian Kinney, and he was the only one that Brian had come to trust with it despite his fear of loosing control.

He turned to face Michael, tugging at the duvet until it covered both their heads and left them in the dark surrounded. Entwining their legs together, Brian dug his fingers into Michael's hair – pulling the man's head back as Brian spoke into Michael's ear. "Someone once told me there was fun to be had in tents and secret places."

Michael gasped as he answered, "I had thought I'd outgrown them when I met you. They weren't the answer anymore." He shuddered as hot lips teased down the length of his throat, teeth gently scraping along the way.

Brian felt the import of what those words truly meant, and he spoke with the seriousness of one who knew the wait was not at an end. "I'm not the answer, Mikey. Not as I am…." When he felt Michael go still, Brian held him tight. Kissing his friend's forehead, Brian reassured him. "But you are my question, Michael. At fourteen, now and until – it's you."

The question of could he, was he and would they be…. He had his doubts; his fears and still he had his hope. Michael was that hope. That he could be other, better, more than now. 'Please, please, please understand and don't make me say….' Brian brushed his mouth over Michael's and waited.

Michael leaned in and spoke into another kiss, "I told you before. It's enough. Enough, for now." Pressing further in, they opened as the simmer surged and all was lips – soft and hungry, and skin – hot to the touch. Brian moaned as Michael repeated and repeated, "Sandman, Sandman." The words a slow and husky mantra as they passed over his kiss-bruised mouth and into his soul. The balm to sooth his spirit before they had to part once more….

Touches in the dark, as fingers traveled and tongues passed in the shadow of their wake. One last phrase, murmured low and rough, "I'm ready for another dream if you are," from Brian and words lost their cognoscente way.

And now was all, and everything as they moved together. Brian rolled, pressing his body down and over Michael's as they arched into the cradle of each other's hips. Hard flesh stroking, hard and long, quick then slow – their cocks leaking with the friction of their play. Brian's senses focused on Michael's moans, the smaller man's breath leaving in deep pants that lit Brian's blood like a match to paper – quick and all consuming. Too lost in listening and feeling to know that he himself had lost control of the sounds he made, Brian's groans were rough as they met and chorused Michael's own.

Frantic and battering, the pace only seemed to quicken until they were writhing – skin slicked and reason free. Each on the verge as the power of their want tormented the substance of their need, Brian and Michael fought for more. Fought each other, fought themselves…. Culmination just out of reach, the seeking - primal.

Brian sucked in a breath, releasing it in a yell as he felt the sharpness of teeth over his heart. "Mikey, ahhh." Back in his head, body once again his own as senses flared – Brian held Michael to his chest, even as his lover would have drawn back with regret at the hurt he'd caused. "Do it again." He moaned as Michael licked over the teeth marks, "Again." So infrequent was this need fulfilled…. That he would allow himself to feel it. And he reveled as the shiver passed through him, hissing out a groan as Michael answered his request. Marking him once more at his breast.

Michael held firm to his task, sucking as he bit – but always with enough care not to break the skin. It was something he'd only ever done with Brian, and he moaned into the act - at the heat it caused in himself. It wasn't power. It was trust. It was knowing something would remain for however little a time, once they both met the waking day.

They both let out ragged sighs when Michael pulled away; his departure followed by a wicked blow of hot breath across the moist mark. Brian jerked and once again pressed Michael back onto the bed, holding him still with his hands caught above his head in Brian's grip.

The duvet now lay in a tangle at their feet, leaving them free to see each other. Sweaty, debauched – hair wildly spiked and skin flushed. Each thought the other looked incredible, sharp eyes traveling over every inch as they hung in the moment. Brian over Michael, holding him down – seeing the pleasure Michael felt at being controlled flying across his expressive face. In his eyes….

In them was a spark of devilment and fire, made tangible as Michael arched into him and circled Brian's waist with his legs. They both gasped as Brian shifted down, his cock hard against the spread cheeks of Michael ass. Looking down between their bodies, Michael stared at the meshing of their dark curls – groins locked in the sensuous circling of their hips. He met Brian's eyes even as he felt the hard length of Brian's hard-on moving along his still slicked crease. Licking his lips, tongue gliding in a desperate swipe over their swollen surface – Michael lifted up and thrust against his friend. "Sandy, please."

Brian's voice, when he spoke, was half-broken and rough. "What do you want?"

On a groan, Michael replied. "Fuck me." He tried to twist his arms free, but Brian tightened his hold.

Pressing down on Michael's wrists with one hand, Brian reached between them with the other. He watched Michael as he touched him, making sure that he missed nothing as he tested the way. Two fingers entered, one long push as they invaded and found a place inside Michael. Drawing back slowly, Brian added a third as Michael closed his eyes and shuddered. A soft sound escaped even as Michael tried to hold it back, biting at his lip to be quiet. It was a sound that halted Brian's hand. When he made to withdraw, Michael tightened his legs – their strength holding Brian still close. "Don't stop."

Brian kissed Michael, trying to ride out the wave of 'now' 'now' 'now' that was screaming through his head. Listening instead to the accompanying voice of reason, which was barely to be heard over the rush of his blood. "You're sore. I could hurt you." Having had two men back to back, each having ridden him hard…. Brian wanted to be sure before they both let the rash eclipse the rational.

Capturing Brian's mouth, melting into the liquid heat of their connection – Michael succeeded in freeing his arms. He buried his fingers in Brian's hair and whispered, "Slowly then. Just…. Please." A hair's breath from having Brian do as he asked, Michael reached down and pushed against Brian's hand. He sucked in a breath and moaned as the fingers began a rhythm, in and out. "See…," he gasped. Michael rolled his head from side to side, ebony hair sweeping against midnight blue on the pillow as he closed his eyes and asked without thought, "Brian, please?"

'Brian.' – Not Sandman, not Sandy. The name slipping out into the light of mid-morning, calling forth the reality of what they were both doing. Of what they could not deny. The heady Dawn winning over Elysium dreams.

Until once more, Michael was murmuring, "Sandman," against Brian's lips as they clung together. The tone swept over Brian, enough to brake through his doubt.

Lifting up, Brian reached over and snagged both a condom and lube. He knelt up as Michael spread his legs, lying open to his eyes – beautifully illicit in his trust. Through out his preparation, Brian fought to steady his attention. Made hard by Michael's wandering hands, running over his chest – his thighs – his stomach. Finally they settled on Brian's hips, pulling at them in Michael's impatience.

Brian dove forward quickly, kissing Michael as he once more pushed his fingers inside. Devouring each moan, each gasp as he stroked over Michael's prostate. Brian answered in kind, his breath leaving in a growl as he felt Michael's legs circle his hips. The sounds, the taste, the heat of him…. Brian was dying for more. Withdrawing his fingers, he drew back just a touch away and watched. He watched as Michael's eyes widened, mouth opening on a groan. Felt the clutching of Michael hands, even as he felt the clutch and pull of Michael's ass when he pushed slowly inside.

Arching over him, into him – the thrusts slow and strong. And only the connection of their bodies and their eyes kept Brian from loosing all sense of self in the act. He wasn't blissed out and floating above. He'd done that too much in the past, but never with this man.

Present, here – captured even as he caught.

Blood singed with the friction and glide. Brian shuddered as Michael cried out, reaching for Brian's hand as an anchor through the fury and sound. That clasp, their fingers meshed – entwined and raw with not wanting to let go – signified everything. Their tale told in the press of pulse-to-pulse, measured in time and equal in measure.

"Brian!!!" Michael's voice jerked from him in a rasping call, his body spasming with a force that quaked his equilibrium. He shook as he came, the driving friction of Brian's abdomen against his cock carrying him over even as he heard Brian's shout in return.

Dizzy with the rush, Brian grit his teeth as pleasure jackknifed along his spine – shot after shot, until he lost his will to hold on and all was flash and moan. His voice sounding through the loft as he came, echoing as he fell against Michael – held in his arms.

Too weary to move, they stayed there in a panting heap. Minutes done and still they held, until nature took its turn and they were forced to separate. Michael winced as his flesh became yet again his own, only. The presence and ache still remaining, echoed in his flesh. He sighed a hum as Brian turned back to him, sheath gone and naked as the day that reflected in their shining eyes.

For the longest they didn't speak, lying on one shared pillow as their gazes held. There wasn't any loss, there was only home found and returned to…. More said by silence than either could have put to breath.

Awake, two men who sheltered as one – now their dream at its present end. Michael to Ben, he would go. Brian to Brian, he would stay. But night would again return with the closing of each day. And when they must, in each they'd trust. And dream, and drift they may….

 

Finis


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